


Phone Call

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [34]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Dr. Strange
Genre: Boys In Love, Heavy Angst, Hurt Stephen Strange, Hurt/Comfort, Husbands, I had a bad day, I'm so sorry, M/M, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 21:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16563695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: It would be selfish, so fucking selfish to do this to Tony, but he just didn’t want to be alone.





	Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

> I had a bad day guys, sorry about this.

   Stephen struggled to open his eyes, he could feel the hardwood floor pressing against his cheek, the sticky blood clinging to his skin, the pounding in his head from the blow he had sustained not five minutes prior. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, simply put everything he had into his opening his eyes. He ignored the sound of crunching steps as they moved over shattered glass, ignored the warmth seeping out from beneath him, ignored the sickening twisting in his gut.

   Breathe. Just breathe.

   It was shallow and painful, but he still managed, his breath huffing out and warming the hand sprawled in front him. Slowly, like there were three-ton weights seated on his lids, he peeled them back, blinking in the harsh lighting, streaming from the windows of the Sanctuary.

   He wished he hadn’t bothered. His eyes stung, tears building and flowing off his cheeks to pool on the floor. In front of him, almost ten feet away, slumped awkwardly against the wall was Wong, neck twisted at an impossible angle, eyes staring blankly ahead, face specked with a spray of blood. _My blood_ his mind supplied.

   He wanted to go to him, knew how pointless it was, and still the nausea built until he was certain he would throw up right there, his thoughts spiralling as he replayed the events, his utter failure, Wong’s attempt to help him. Look where it had gotten them, years of experience now, Wong was dead, and Stephen was bleeding out, a horrific pain making itself known in his back.

   There was a sudden bang, pulling Stephen from his thoughts. It was the sound of the front door slamming shut, Mordo was gone and with him the Eye. Stephen swallowed thickly, tried to move his head, tried to remind himself he was a Sorcerer who had defeated Dormammu, Thanos this could not be where he ended.

   He managed to twist it away from the gruesome picture Wong presented, barely kept back a sob as he fought to focus. But when he finally looked toward the door, head shifting lazily he froze again. Draped across the floor was his Cloak, lifeless as though it were simply a piece of fabric, Stephen’s lips twisted, his face crumpling as the tears flowed freely now, sobs coming up in painful little hiccups.

   In that moment, for the first time since he yelled at Christine he felt completely and truly _alone_. With the realization came terror, debilitating and soul-crushing, he didn’t want to die here, alone on the floor of the Sanctuary, without even his Cloak to help wrap around his shoulders. With a cry of pain Stephen tried to move again, attempted to lift his torso from the ground, only to be hit with an even worse realization, he couldn’t feel his feet, his legs. He couldn’t move them.

   He screamed, torn from his throat in a shapeless cry of defiance, anger, and helplessness. Knew of course that it was too late, that he was losing too much blood, so he kept yelling, anything to stop feeling the growing pain in his back, to ignore the numbness in his legs, to express the absolute hatred he had for Mordo in that moment, surrounded by his most loyal dead companions.

   Exhausted Stephen stopped, his head laying back down on the wood and in some of the blood gathered there. His mind whirred gently, detailing all the ways it was over, the Eye was gone, he couldn’t reverse this, the only sling ring around was the one on Wong’s finger too far away for him to reach, all help was too far away at this point, even if he wanted to risk exposing Kamar-Taj to the police or ambulance. He began to shake, the warmth of his blood sliding out of his body no longer as noticeable, when his eyes caught on something glinting in the light.

   It was his wedding band.

   Stephen bit his trembling lip as he stared at his scarred and broken hand, blinking the tears out of the way. Tony had left just that morning with a wide grin on his face and his signature mantra of be careful. They were supposed to go out to dinner tonight at one of those unbearably fancy restaurants that Stephen pretended to hate, but Tony knew he actually adored, he had been so excited.

   Without even thinking Stephen’s hand crept down to one of his many pockets, sliding through the stickiness until his fingers could close around the object there, his phone. His breath had grown shallower, a classic sign of blood loss, as he held it in front of him, finger hovering anxiously over the contact for Tony.

   It would be selfish, so fucking selfish to do this to Tony, he just didn’t want to be _alone_. There was nothing Tony could do for him at this point, you didn’t even need to be a surgeon to know it, Mordo was very thorough, but it wouldn’t stop Tony from trying or blaming himself for the rest of his life for failing. A sheen of sweat had appeared on Stephen’s forehead, even as his breathing grew more laboured, he was hit with a realization, cruel as it was merciful. He didn’t need to be alone, he could hear Tony’s voice one last time, hear him say he loved him, and not tell him a damn thing, let them both have this last moment of happiness. In the end Tony wouldn’t hate himself for not saving Stephen because he would be too busy hating Stephen for not saying anything. It was deluded, and he distantly wondered if it was because of how hazy his mind was becoming, how heavy his eyelids were.

   He tapped the call icon.

   Stephen lay there, phone sitting loosely in his hand, already on speaker listening to the quiet ringing, heart aching desperately, he just needed to hear him one more time.

   “Hello?”

   Stephen stifled a sob, pulled himself together in record time. “Hey Tony.” His voice was horse from the screaming, but he managed to sound somewhat like himself.

   “Stephen? Are you ok?” Concern, that wasn’t supposed to happen.

   “I…” he didn’t want to lie, not now. “I just thought I’d call and see how the meeting went.”

   There was a pause, then Tony was back, his familiar gruff voice offering a quiet laugh. “Did you go back to bed after I left?”

   “No.” He murmured, eyes slowly falling shut to his soothing voice.

   “Liar.” He teased, “It went well, at least until Captain Russell started talking, remember I mentioned him?”

   Stephen made a positive noise. The pain in his back was fading quickly, the coolness in his limbs disappearing behind numbness.

   Tony continued to talk then about the meeting, about politics, about how he was looking forward to dinner later until all Stephen heard was the distant hum of his voice. A weak smile spread on Stephen’s lips, the fear abating now that he wasn’t alone, he could slide into that darkness guided by Tony and knowing he was safe.

   Still, he managed to rouse himself just enough to interrupt the flow of words, there was one last thing he wanted before he let go. “I love you Tony.”

   There was that pause again, “Stephen?”

   A tear slipped out, snaking its way over Stephen’s nose and down his cheek. “Tony, please I need to hear it.” He knew his voice was fading in and out, hoped his sentence got across.

   Worried and more then a little scared, “You know I love-”

   The darkness came over him like a tidal wave, pulling him under. It was alright though because at least he wasn’t alone, even if he didn’t get to hear it one last time.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone cares I have tentatively started writing drabbles for my Tales from 221B series, so if I'm not writing here, I'm probably writing there. 
> 
> Let me know what you guys think, positive or negative all is welcome.


End file.
